


One Step at a Time

by fangirlSevera



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 16:25:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlSevera/pseuds/fangirlSevera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann is stubborn, Newt just wants to help. A typical evening (or is it morning already?) for the K-Scientists filled with bickering and UST.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Step at a Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eyemeohmy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/gifts).



> originally posted on tumblr, based off the prompt:  
>  _Anything involving Hermann's leg or whatever. Every once and a while, he puts too much pressure on it or maybe the cold really gets to it I dunno, but he'll experience intense pain and have to lie down for a while. I'd love to see Newt nag him to lay his math loving ass down (especially during some lecture OH GOD YES DISTRACTION) and maybe, JUST MAYBE, give his bum leg or whatever part is sore/acting up a massage?_

There was a sudden sharp intake of breath from the other side of the lab. It was a familiar sound now, the precursor to an angry rant. Newton was trying to figure out what he possibly could have done to upset Hermann- sorry,  _Doctor Gottlieb_ \- now. He hadn’t spoken a single word to the man for several hours. Newt had kept all his specimens on his side of the room. He had a tendency to mutter to himself while he worked, but no more than Hermann himself or any of the other scientists. If he was just imagining problems, and Newt wouldn’t put it past him…

Actually, several minutes had passed while Newton was considering what could be the source of Hermann’s ire, and Hermann hadn’t actually followed-up his initial hiss with any accusatory tirades. Newt paused in his perusal of kaiju stomach contents and dared to look up.

Hermann was halfway up the ladder for his ridiculous chalk boards. His arm was still stretched out, chalk pressed against the black, but he had paused in his calculations. Newt squinted. The last few numbers looked a bit shakily drawn.

"Hey, dude, you okay?" Newt called out.

Hermann’s shoulders and grip on the ladder tensed even more. “I’m perfectly fine," Hermann gritted out from behind clenched teeth.

Newt peeled off his blue covered gloves and dared to breech the invisible barrier between their work spaces. “I don’t think you are," he told Hermann, standing at the the ladder. Newton rubbed his hands over his arms. He had been so focused on his work, he hadn’t noticed just how cold it had gotten in the lab. Freaking Alaska. Why couldn’t they be in a shatterdome in Sydney?

"No one asked you!"

"Because ‘no one’ is a stubborn idiot."

"Get back to your side of the room!"

"Not until you prove how ‘fine’ you are by coming down here." Hermann ground his piece of chalk on the board hard enough to send dust and small chunks falling Newton’s way. “Or do I have to come up there and get you?"

"You most certainly do not!" He made a loud sigh. “All right. I’m coming down."

Newt stepped back. He kept a careful eye on Hermann’s progress, each slow, uncoordinated step, his left leg awkwardly dangling as he put no weight on it during the descent.

Hermann finally made it to the last rung. There was no way to hide how pale he was, his knuckles, gripping the ladder yet, white. He was breathing harshly through his nose, and he refused to meet Newt’s eye.

"Yeah, okay. Not okay."

Hermann spluttered as Newt put an arm around his waist and lead him to the nearest chair. “This is entirely unnecessary! If you would just hand me my cane…" But his protestations were cut off by another sharp gasp of pain. Yeah, it was definitely pain. Hermann involuntarily gripped at Newt’s shoulder, bony fingers digging in.

Newt, a bit unceremoniously, dropped Hermann in the nearest chair. Hermann let go, but residual white powder was left ingrained in Newt’s t-shirt.

"Is your leg bothering you?"

Hermann, who had his left leg stretched out in front of him, a hand kneading at the thigh, glared. “A brilliant deduction."

"Is there anything I can do?" Newt bit his lip. He wasn’t the comforting, nursing type. Just didn’t have the disposition for it. And yet Hermann was clearly suffering and every fiber of Newt’s being was screaming “Help him!" His fingers twitched with the need to be occupied, to solve the problem at hand.

"You can leave me alone."

"Don’t you have like pills or something for this?"

"If you would just give me some peace for a moment, I can handle it fine. It’ll pass on its own soon enough!"

"I know you probably went to some kind of Dickensian all boys school where you were told to just ‘tough it out’ or ‘stiff upper lip’ it. But this is the real world, or close to it. So, I’m going to find you drugs."

"I said  _no_ , Geiszler. The only medication that even remotely works at times like these makes it impossible for me to get any work done."

"You’re not getting any work done now!" Newton argued. He noticed the way Hermann was still clutching at his thigh, but the hand wasn’t otherwise moving. “You know…" He couldn’t believe he was about to offer this. This would surely cross that even greater metaphorical boundary than the one dividing the room. “I could always help with a, ah, massage maybe?"

Hermann’s hand dropped from his leg, and he stared wide-eyed at Newt. Well, at least the surprise was distracting him from the pain for a moment. “I beg your pardon?" He asked, barely above a scandalized whisper.

He lifted his hands. “Magic fingers. Just ask any of my exes."

Hermann snorted, whether in disbelief over the effectiveness of Newt’s skill or the existence of anyone ever being involved with him to be an ex, was unclear. Still, he wasn’t saying no.

"You don’t want to take pills. I understand. I  _really_  understand. But the sooner we get you back to fighting form, the sooner you can get back to your precious numbers, right?"

"I don’t know… I know where those hands have been." Hermann glanced over at the pile of kaiju innards sprawling over Newt’s lab counters.

"I wear gloves!"

Hermann’s disgusted scowl turned into a grimace as the pain demanded his attention once more.

"That’s it!" Newt reached around and grabbed a bottle of hand sanitizer from Hermann’s desk and rubbed a generous amount over his hands. He ignored Hermann’s mutterings, something about no data whether the disinfectant had any effect on interdimensional bacteria.

Newt knelt next to Hermann’s chair and batted the other man’s hand away from where it was uselessly holding his thigh. Newt reached out, but Hermann stiffened and shifted away from his touch.

Newton looked up at him, adjusting his glasses in the new angle of light. “This is only going to be awkward and weird if you make it awkward and weird by being all stuffy and repressed."

"I am not-"

"Then let me touch you!"

Newt took the slight easing of the tension around Hermann’s mouth as consent and got one hand his thigh. And yeah, okay. Maybe this was a bit weird and awkward. Because he had  _his hand_  on  _Hermann’s thigh_.

"Well, I must say, so far your supposed exes have been quite hyperbolic."

Newt mentally shook himself and cleared his throat. He smirked up at Hermman and put some pressure on his thumb as he ran it across the brown wool of the trousers beneath it.

Hermann gasped, his hands curled around the chairs seat, holding tight. “Too much?" Newton asked, letting up on the pressure. Hermann shook his head, but closed his eyes. Newt did the simple move again, up and down. He glanced at Hermann’s face. He had his eyes closed still, and was biting his lips together, desperate to not make any embarrassing noise.

It was in vain, as Newt found a particular spot that actually made Hermann whimper. He concentrated on that spot, rubbing circles there. Soon the tension eased as the initial pain started to turn into something more pleasant. Hermann’s death grip on his seat slackened and his lips parted, letting out a shuddering sigh of relief.

Newton’s soothing rhythm stuttered when he allowed himself to take-in all the new and provocative sounds he was getting from Hermann. He was just helping a colleague get back to work. This was all in Newt’s best interest because Hermann was tough to work with on a good day. A hurting Hermann would be insufferable. So as long as Hermann was happy, Newt could be happy.

It was as simple as that.

Newt stopped watching Hermann’s expressions, and just kept his eyes doggedly glued to his own fingers. He could hear that moan just fine, thank you very much, he had no reason to know how he looked while making it, too.

After a another moment or two, Hermann’s hand came down and covered Newt’s, stopping his ministrations. “You can stop now."

"Oh, uh, you sure?" Newt tried to look at him again, but couldn’t quiet meet his eye, his own skittering to a point somewhere over Hermann’s left shoulder.

"It’s quite manageable now."

Newt nodded. “Okay." He slid his hand away from under Hermann’s and off his leg.

He stood, fingers curling into the palm of his now unoccupied hand, curling into the vestiges of heat from the other man’s body. He turned heel to grab the cane which had been left propped-up against the blackboards. He held it out for Hermann to take like a peace offering or an apology, though why Newt had to give either was beyond him.

Hermann took it without comment, and levered himself up to stand. “Yes, well. I suppose I should probably stay off the ladder for the rest of the night at least."

"Yeah." Newt agreed. “I’ll just…" He pointed a thumb over his shoulder and headed back to his side of the lab.

The quiet tap-tapping of Hermann’s chalk started again.

Newt snapped on a clean pair of gloves and shouted across the room, “You’re welcome, by the way!"


End file.
